A Collection of Drabbles
by RaffealHart
Summary: A series of Drabbles over One-Two/Handsome Bob
1. Truth

Truth

He's a cheeky bugger. Quick to smile, first to laugh.

He's always warm and friendly to him.

Ready to say all the right words.

"Fuck that bitch, One Two!" He's got his arm wrapped around his shoulder, grinning like a kid in a candy store, "Come on, we'll go grab some drinks, meet some nice lasses and take 'em home and have ourselves a right good time, ya?"

One Two stares directly into his eyes; he's usually a good judge of character though he can see nothing but honesty in the other's eyes. He means what he says.

"Thought you weren't into the lasses? Didn't float you're boat."

"Eh, I don't mind eating out every once in a while." Handsome Bob beamed up at him.

He let out a bark of laughter and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, "That's my boy."


	2. Odd

From the start of the day, there was just something not right about Bob.

He wasn't moody or sullen.

He was just…weird.

And being his best mate when Handsome Bob asked him to go drinking, he agreed.

Whatever would make the lad happy.

Though if he'd known Bob was going to be downing the bloody brews like a fish he would've reconsidered.

"Teddy…his hair…its just so…white ya know? Like the snow….snow… hehe." Bob giggled like a child.

One big drunken child.

"True. Just like snow." One Two ignored him as best as he could, flirting with his eyes at a nice looking girl across the pub.

It was the only way to not let the drunken rambles get to him.

"Hey One Two?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for taking me out." Handsome Bob looked at him, head bowed and eyes curious despite being clearly glazed over.

One Two hesitated; the bottle paused at his lips half sip.

There was something definitely wrong.

"Sure thing, mate." One Two nodded and took a long drink from his beer.

"Well I'm gonna go ahead and get out of your hair."

"Huh?"

One Two cocked his head to the side as Handsome Bob suddenly stood up from his seat which after about nine bottles and some funny mixed drinks, wasn't the best idea. Almost immediately he tripped over his own feet and tumbled down violently.

"Shit!" One Two yelped, out of his seat and attempting to heave his friend up from the floor.

He was a heavy bastard.


	3. Good Friend

"You're such a good friend!"

"I know."

It'd taken all his strength to drag the Brit out of the damn Pub.

It was like his legs didn't even work anymore so almost_ literally_ dragging him.

"And you always smell so nice."

"I know."

"I'm twenty-six and a day today."

"I know."

.

..

…

Then it clicked in One Two's head.

_**Today.**_

The Irishmen stopped dead in his tracks.

"Today?"

"Teddy's hair looks like snow." That always made Bob giggle.

"Be kind. Rewind. Today is your birthday?"

"What time is it?" Handsome Bob looked sober, looking at his friend directly in the eyes.

"Two-forty."

"Yup. I'm Twenty-six and one day."

"Why didn't you tell anyone you jackass!" One Two was half-tempted to throw the man's arm off his shoulder and beat the shit out of him.

He was his friend wasn't he?

Why wouldn't he tell him it was his birthday.

"Bahhhh."

"You didn't even celebrate it!"

"Did so!"

"Liar!" One Two snarled.

"I spent it with you didn't I?"

One Two didn't say anything.

He couldn't think.

Handsome Bob stared right back at him, unblinking and unwavering.

He really liked him.

He really_ really_ liked him.


	4. Unrelenting

"Did it die?"

One Two was still blushing.

He'd had to fish the keys out of Bob's pocket.

His front pocket.

And apparently, Bob dressed to the left.

"No, Bob. The elevator is just under maintenance."

"Stairs are so many."

"Yes they are, mate. Yes they are." One Two said grudgingly.

Three flights.

It took half an hour.

And Handsome Bob just had so, so many questions.

"Carry me to bed, Boss man."

"You're too fat."

"Pleaseeeeee."

"Not happening."

By some miracle they actually made it to Bob's room.

He dropped him down and the Britain went completely limp, giggling and squirming when One Two made a grab for his shoes.

"Stop moving."

"Make me."

"Damn it Bob! Quit moving!"

"You're bossy Mr. Boss man."

When One Two finally got a good grip, Bob yanked his who leg back with more force than One Two knew he had in him.

Sending him tumbling forward onto Handsome Bob.

Who suddenly wasn't giggling anymore.


	5. 364

"I'm sorry."

One Two landed elbow first into Handsome Bob's nose.

One Two felt awkward, furious and embarrassed at the same time.

"No I'm sorry."

"No, I'm fucking sorry; Bob so shut your fucking face."

"…Sorry."

"Why didn't you say anything about your birthday?"

"I didn't think you'd go drinking with me if I did."

He sounded a little guilty.

"I still would've and so would have the rest of the gang."

"I just wanted you… That's all I wanted."

He always sounded so guilty.

So ashamed when he was forward about his feelings.

"Bob…"

"I'm sorry. It was a dirty trick but I wanted to see you. Spend time with you, just me and you. Everyday, I wanted it and I didn't want to spend tonight alone."

"It's alright."

"Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad."

"I don't want to be alone."

"I'm right here!"

"You won't leave?"

One Two said nothing.

If it was anyone else, he would've thought he was getting played.

But Handsome Bob was legitimately drunk.

Otherwise he wouldn't have taken the blow to his nose.

Drunk and Lonely.

Handsome Bob looked so vulnerable.

Not himself.

So weak.

Pathetic.

This was all he wanted.

So the Irishman put aside his homophobia and wrapped his arm around Handsome Bob's shoulder.

If all his friend wanted was one day a year

One day to spend one on one time together.

And spend the three hundred and sixty four wanting but never asking.

He could give him this.

"I'll stay but no dicking around. I mean it." One Two warned solemnly.

Handsome Bob buried his head into One Two's shoulder, taking a deep breath.

One Two resisted the urge to flinch away.

"Hehe." Handsome Bob giggled, "You smell nice."


	6. Gradititude

"Oh my god. Please One Two, stab me in the fucking face. Shoot me. Put me out of my misery!" Bob groaned.

"Its just a bad hangover, don't be a pussy." One Two rolled his eyes.

"You don't love me."

"I do too ya bloody fuckin burden."

"If you loved me you'd shoot me like ol' yeller. That boy loved his dog, you don't love me."

One Two smirked behind his newspaper, he didn't mind.


	7. Ocean

Gunshots rang out.

The sky as dark as the depths of the deepest ocean.

He panted.

One hand clung to his leather jacket.

Stumbled but kept along well enough.

_Where did he park?_

"Are you alright?"

They kept running.

He didn't look back.

"Right as rain, Boss-man."

But he wasn't.

He knew he wasn't.

He'd done it.

Taken it.

Taken a bloody bullet.

Just like he always said.

Just like he promised.

No.

Swore.

Loyal.

Faithful.

Never one to complain.

A bullet in his side.

Blood on his hands.

He was loyal.

A good man.

Best mate.


	8. Dog

The next day he's there.

Acting like nothing happened.

He hides his limp rather well.

It takes a matter of two seconds before he's ushering him out.

Ignoring the catcalls and whooping made in the background.

"You idiot! Get back to bed."

"I'm fine."

"You're not bloody fine!"

"Am so."

"The hospital discharged you?"

Handsome Bob looked up, anywhere but at him.

He wont look him in the eyes and lie.

The shit-eating grin said he was proud of himself.

Nobody kept Handsome Bob down and out.

"Go home."

"But-"

"We don't need you. Go. Home."

Bob took a step back.

The grin gone.

His blue eyes clear.

Confused.

Hurt?

Then he was nodding, grinning weakly.

He didn't limp on his way out.

He walked with a skip in his step.

Loyal.

Obedient.

As painfully loving as any good dog.


	9. Return

He doesn't see Handsome Bob for three weeks.

He stays home like he asked him.

There is no calls.

Handsome Bob knows better.

He's a good mate.

Not some school girl with a crush.

He understands the line without One Two needing to remind him.

Bob slinks in on the twenty-fourth day.

His blue eyes on One Two.

Hopeful.

One Two lifts his chin.

Immediately the poor lad is a seductive chap once more.

He's Handsome Bob.

Lady killer.


	10. Resilence

"Are you some sort of fag?"

'**Clearly.**' Bob thinks to himself, narrow eyes unamused by the woman's aggressiveness.

Veronica.

One Two's new lady friend.

She's five-four.

Slim.

A nice, classy rack.

One hell of a mouth.

Bob hates her.

Her soulless black eyes trained on him.

She's a fuckin' c*.

Even he doesn't use that word to describe women but this isn't a woman.

No.

This is some hell creature spat from the depths of hades to cock-block him.

Sure he isn't any closer to getting One Two then he was when he first confessed but damn it he didn't need this shit.

"I'm sorry but what?"

He keeps a pleasant tone and his anger in check.

He for sure isn't sorry but One Two is taken by surprised by Veronica's outburst and Bob knows better than to make it worse.

"I didn't stutter; A fag. A Homo. A bloody cock-sucking wanker."

"Veronica-"

Is all One Two can get out.

"No! Every time this fucker comes around he never lets up. He's always right fucking there and its pissing me off. The faggot clearly like wants you're dick or something and it's disgusting."

Veronica always had that sour look on her face when she stared at him.

Like he was a bug she wanted to crush under those ugly Louboutin knock-offs.

"Little spitfire you got there, One Two." Handsome Bob tips his drink at One Two and is gone before he can even mutter a syllable.

It takes all that's in him not to punch a bitches fucking lights out.


	11. Mirrors

"Motherfucker!"

Handsome Bob was on the poor college boy faster than One Two could blink.

The student was bigger than the Wild Boy.

Probably riding a scholarship for sports.

He didn't stand a chance.

One Two had no sympathy.

That shot glass had whizzed past his nose, almost breaking it.

The bartender evaluated the damage to the mirror the glass had done; he'd need a new one.

Good Ol' Johnny wasn't even mad, Bob was all over getting revenge and he had insurance.

Bob grabbed him around the midsection, slamming him back over table, knocking it over and tumbling down with him.

The girls screeched and lunged back.

All his friends could say was 'Oh Shit! Shit! Shit!"

They'd probably never seen somebody beating anyone else like that before.

Handsome's fists rained their fury down on the boy and his once good looking mug.

"I'll go bring the car around, you get Bob before he kills the poor jackass."

"Right." Mumbles nodded, taking his last sip of scotch nice and slow.

By the time he reached the door, Mumbles was verbally trying to get him off of the boy weakly with his half-hearted pleas of, "Oh. No. Stop Bob. Not his front teeth Bob. You're going to break your fist busting in his teeth."


	12. Poppycock

Six hours of driving.

And that damn smell of the sausage and cheese was still in the damn car.

His car.

'_Oh, it only smells now. It'll go away, don't be a prat One Two.' _The Irishman snarled under his breath and cast a glance to the rearview mirror.

In the backseat slept Handsome Bob and their newest rookie, Toby Love as the Brit liked to call him.

He joined them three months back.

Toby, scrawny, tall and baby faced was sticky fingered, a bit twitchy and all smiles when Mumbles or Bob were at his side.

You'd never notice your wallet was gone.

The boy didn't need to bump or distract.

He could pick as fluidly as a raven could swoop.

He lacked the look Bob had when he was younger.

But Bob gave him all the confidence in the world.

He must have been fifteen or sixteen.

Bob told him the boy had nothing better.

No skills.

No education.

No decent relatives to rely on.

Teddy discovered him when he pick pocketed Bare Knuckle Louie in the park by chance.

Despite being so young and lacking motivation to be a cold blooded gangster

He knew how to elude and how to thrive with bare hands.

And knew how to say little in a lot.

You'd never catch the bullshit till you thought about it later.

One Two hated him.


	13. Interest

The Irishman whispers the lyrics under his breath.

He's the only person he knows that still uses those bloody clunky things.

But that's how he relaxes when he goes home in the afternoon.

How he escapes the world.

Handsome Bob reviews One Two's music.

He's not a fan.

But he'll buy One Two a record if he sees it.

Ignoring the way the elder blasts it.


	14. Predator

"You've got to really aim, Toby Love."

It should've been illegal.

It probably was.

Nobody paid the pair any mind.

The probably looked like brothers.

Toby came up to Bob's shoulder and sported a head of wild dark chocolate locks.

Mistakable.

Handsome Bob was Handsome Bob because it wasn't immediately apparent he was Fag Bob.

"Relax…"

Handsome Bob had Toby Love bent over the billiard table, on hand on his hip, the other on his hand holding the tip of the stick.

"Easy, just breathe."

Toby didn't seemed bothered in the least, his eyes sharpened with the same predatory look a cat would give a bird, staring at the billiard ball they aimed for.

"Then, attack."

Toby thrust the pool stick, striking the selected ball with enough force to send the colored balls in its path ricochet violently, three of the five struck making it into pockets. Toby stood back with a grin, nearly pressed against Handsome Bob who'd only stood but not actually backed away.

"Thanks."

"Pool is for relaxation and fun Toby Love, so don't over think." Handsome Bob ruffled his hair, letting the boy's head press to his sternum before taking him about the waist and moving him out of the way.

"Are you going to show me how a real man plays now?" Toby asked, grinning and leaning against the table.

"Careful, Love. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"Are you going to bite back if I do?"

The whites of the Irishman's knuckles appeared as he tightened his hold on the bottle.

The little fucker was flirting with him!

The Brit's almost colorless eyes flickered sideways at the boy.

He'd caught on.

"Growl." Handsome Bob teased, making a thick sound from his throat.


	15. Threat

They'd never really fought.

They had tiffs.

But they always laughed about it afterward.

"What the fuck did I do?"

"Nothing."

"One Two! Don't be a wanker, tell me."

The Irishman spun on his heel, glaring at the other man venomously.

"You're a fucking cradle robber!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're fucking that kid!"

"The hell I am!" The younger man's face began turning red, "I might be a faggot but I'm not a pervert, you know that!"

"Bloody hell Bob, you're always all over him. _'Relax, just breath. Pool is for fun, don't mind my cock digging at you're fucking arse as I dry fuck you against the table!'_" One Two roared, mocking Bob.

"Oh come off it One Two, if that was Mumbles or Jackie boy you wouldn't thought twice about it." Handsome Bob took a step back, his eyes darting as a melancholy expression took over his face, the red fading fast, "Does me being a faggot really bother you that much that I can't even help a kid play pool without you thinking I'm going to fuck him? I thought you understood! You said you understood!"

"It's not about you being a poof!"

"Then what is it about? I'm not fucking him. And you've never been this mad since I confessed to you so what else could it be?"

"I'm jealous okay? That fucking kid flirts and you always are all over him! Ever since he turned up that's all you talk about is 'Toby Love this' and 'Toby Love that'!"

Handsome Bob's mouth was open but he didn't say anything.

He was jealous.

One Two himself was jealous of some brat.

"I didn't mean that."

"You're jealous?"

"No!"

"You…"

"Don't make me hit you, Bob."

"Oh give it to me hard, One Two."


	16. Homies

"What are you going to do? Spank me?"

"Don't think I haven't put a man over my knee before."

"Kinky."

"Funny, your mother said the same thing last night." Handsome Bob grinned and almost reluctantly Toby shared it, unable to not smile at the joke, "Seriously though get back to work or I'm going to have to pistol whip you around a little bit."

"You're gonna break the poor little buggers' heart." The elder commented when the boy left.

"Teddy my man, it is better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all."

"That's no excuse to be a slut, Bob." Mumbles snorted.

"One Two doesn't think I'm a slut." The Brit countered.

"That's because he lives a blissfully ignorant life free from the worrisome knowledge of your extracurricular activities."

"Fuck you guys. I thought I was amongst friends I considered good enough to be family."

"Oh sod off with that emotional garbage, you pussy. You might be a faggot but you're still a man; act like it."

He loved his man-bitches.

They were always blunt.


	17. Tickle

It wasn't a date.

The ordered in Chinese food.

Rented some movies.

Got some beers.

It wasn't a date.

One Two was less than six inches away.

He could hear him breathing.

It's not a date.

And he isn't thirteen.

He shouldn't feel mush-mouthed and blush over the tickle in his lower belly.


	18. Submission

Handsome hesitates.

He isn't allowed to do this.

Look.

Look but never ever touch.

Never touch.

His heart beat is in his throat.

Oh god.

He'd let him do anything.

Anything he asked.

He could do anything he wanted with him.

_Anything._

Tie him up.

Hit him.

Rape him.

_Break him._

_**Anything.**_

His hands quaked.

Look but never touch.

"Are you gonna kiss me or not."

That fucking accent.

He could cum to that voice.

It was like getting mind fucked.

By a sexy Irishman.

"I-I…" His eyes flickered; he knew he was now shaking.

His whole body.

His mind told him to fucking move.

His cock throbbed.

But his body was too well trained.

Resistant to the urges.

He wouldn't budge.

He was a good mate.

Loyal mate.

Obedient.

He wanted this.

_Dreamed of this._

Oh how he **fucking wanted it**.

He licked his teeth.

He closed his eyes and moaned.

"Please just fucking take me, One Two."

"What?" One Two blushed.

"I can't move. I can't. Do it. Hit me. Bite me. Hurt me."

"Bite you?" One two lean back.

He's fresh meat.

Untouched.

Naïve.

Uneasy.

"Show me you want it. That it's not just words. Make me submit." Handsome Bob begged.

He wanted to feel those hands on him.

Hurting him.

Acceptance.

He needed it.


	19. Masochistic

He did what he asked.

He gripped the back of his head.

Tilted it back.

Exposing the bulging Adam's apple.

And paused.

After a few seconds the younger man didn't think he'd do it.

Then came the harsh moan.

The hot organ lavished his throat.

Molt hot.

Only a little hotter than his burning body.

"Please-"

It was all he could get out.

Teeth bit down hard.

Canines digging in.

His body sang.

And he felt like a little virgin again.

Hard as a fucking rock.

If the Irishman even groped his thigh, he knew he'd come.

He'd fucking blow his load harder than he ever had before.

That's what two years of wanting had done to him.

Crippled him.

Restrained him.

Taught him to resist.

And how that wall was coming tumbling down.

One Two sucked hard at his throat.

Bruising it for sure.

Eventually he pulled back.

His dark black eyes boring into his.

"Use me." Handsome Bob whispered, his quaking hand rising to grip his shirt.


	20. Dreams

One Two was on top of him.

On top of _him_

Handsome Bob.

He yelped.

One Two twisted his arm back a bit further, pain rocketing through his arm.

But all he could focus on was One Two's tongue in his mouth, exploring.

He tasted better than he imagined.


End file.
